Mark’s memorial ceremony was small. His parents, brother, and some other relatives were there, as well as Rome and his parents, Bart and his parents, and a few other close friends. Despite his fame and fortune, when it came to his services, his parents wanted only those most important to their son to be there.
The pastor was talking about how Mark’s life had been cut so short, how he would’ve done great things if he’d lived, but that they’d never know why God saw fit to end his life so quickly. Rome wasn’t really listening to any of
The cemetery was beautiful. Flowers and plants in bloom were everywhere Ella looked. The sky was a brilliant blue, and it didn’t quite seem to go with the melancholy mood of the occasion. The casket they were about to lower into the ground contained the body of one of the most wonderful people she’d ever known. How dare the sky be anything but gray?Hundreds of people were there. Tim’s parents had decided to allow anyone who wanted to come to do so. Ella thought it was an odd choice, but who was she to argue with them?
No one noticed the vial. As soon as Ella got back to her parents’ house, she went up to her room--which was on the second floor now, not the attic--and promptly took it out and hid it. She was expecting a phone call from Bart to explain what it was and what she was supposed to do with it, but she didn’t even know for sure that it was Bart who had handed it to her.She sat through an uncomfortable dinner with her father, stepmother, Anna, Drew, and Henry where hardly anyone said a word, and her stepsisters spent most of the time sobbing, as if they had lost
The pounding in Rome’s head made him think he must’ve been assaulted by a brute with a sledgehammer. He opened his eyes as far as he dared, just a slit, and immediately wished he hadn’t. There wasn’t much light in the room, wherever he was, but even the soft glow from the open window and the clock next to the bed was enough to make him nauseated.“Are you awake?”
The house was quiet. Ella lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all of those nights she’d lay beneath this same roof but looking at a far different picture of it. If it weren’t for Rome, she’d probably still be in the attic. He’d be out there, freely living his life. Tim would be alive, and so would Mark.Had her will to be free cost others everything?
Ella sat on the edge of her bed, an empty pill bottle in one hand, a vial of clear fluid in the other.She thought back through the plan as Bart had explained it to her. She’d sent the text to Mary and then placed her phone in the drawer where she could easily find it. Hopefully, her friend would get there first or else her dad could figure out she and Bart were up to something.
Mary had a key and knew the code to the alarm system that secured the door. It had been enough to get her into Ella’s room earlier, but it wouldn’t work for her purposes now because it wouldn’t explain what she was doing there to her former employers who would come running once they heard her scream.She gave a soft tap on the door. Her text earlier to Roger would’ve been enough for him to expect her, though he didn’t know what she wanted. He was probably hoping she wanted something more, but he would be disappointed.
It took longer to get a response than Mary had anticipated. By the time she’d screamed twice, and no one had come running, she opened the bedroom door and tried again. “Help! Someone, help! Ella’s dead! She’s dead!”Even that took longer than it should have. It was Henry Caron who reached her first, dressed in pajama pants and nothing more. “What’s going on?” he asked in his thick French accent. Mary might’ve forgotten she was upset that her friend was dead if she had stared at his chiseled chest for too much longe
Bart arrived at the morgue late that afternoon, after the family had come and gone. They’d done all of the things families do at a time like this--picked out a casket, flowers, all of those things. He imagined there had been tears and confessions of regret, but any lamentations Ella’s father was having, he fully deserved.Ella was dressed in a lovely red gown, and her hair was styled as if she were going to an award show. Looking at her lying there on a table in the back of the home, where the embalming was typically done, it was hard to believe she was ac